


When At Fault

by flipflop_diva



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Established Relationship, F/M, Hair-pulling, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, POV Steve Rogers, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Pre-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Spanking, Steve Rogers Is a Good Bro, Sub Natasha Romanov, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:26:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26221093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/pseuds/flipflop_diva
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Natasha needs her dom to help punish her.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Natasha Romanov
Comments: 3
Kudos: 84
Collections: Femsub Semi-Flash 2020





	When At Fault

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PulledPorgSandwich](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PulledPorgSandwich/gifts).



He waited until everyone else had disappeared around corners and down hallways, some going to eat, most going to sleep, before he turned to her.

She was standing just ten feet away from him, her head down, red curls covering her eyes. Her shoulders drooped, and he could almost see the guilt and regret dripping off her.

He could have yelled at her — should have yelled at her maybe. He had given her a direct order, and she had disobeyed it because she thought she knew better. But she hadn’t seen what he had seen, and because of her actions, Wanda and Vision had almost died, Sam’s wings had gotten damaged and their target had gotten away.

Even Natasha hadn’t come out of it unscathed. He knew if she tilted her head back up to look at him that he would see a bloody lip and the beginnings of a black eye. And in the morning, she would probably be covered with bruises.

But he would make sure she was okay later. They had something else to deal with now.

“Natasha,” Steve said loudly, and he made sure his voice was sharp and commanding, leaving no doubt what was coming next.

Her head almost flew upward as her eyes searched out his. Normally in these cases, she would look defiant. But today she just looked miserable. The blood dripping down her chin and the swelling around her eye contributed to the effect.

“Come with me,” he said, voice still sharp, not letting in any trace of compassion. Not yet anyway.

He led her out of the Quinjet hangar and down hallways and into the suite of rooms set up just for them. Most of the others thought it was their command center for planning out Avengers missions when they didn’t want to be overheard, and some of it was, but there was something else that was their own little secret.

He walked determinedly to the back room, the one with the king bed and the drawers full of special toys. Natasha followed him without protest, stopping in front of him when he sat at the edge of the bed, her head drooping once more.

“Take off your clothes,” Steve commanded.

Natasha nodded, just barely, but he could see it. “Yes, Sir.”

He watched as she removed her uniform, piece by piece, setting aside the knives and the guns and her widow’s bites and then pulling down the zipper that went to her navel and shrugging her arms out of her uniform before pulling it down and over her hips and down her legs and finally stepping free from all of it. It had been a while since they’d had to do this, but Steve could tell by the way her fingers were shaking just so as she removed her uniform and by the way that she kept her eyes turned away from him that she needed it.

She was too in her head, too wrecked by guilt and anger at herself, to be able to get through this without help.

“Keep going,” he told her when she paused, staring down at her uniform on the floor, clad only in a black sports bra and matching boy shorts. 

She jolted a little when he spoke, as if she had forgotten he was there, but then as he watched, his eyes still focused intently on her, she gripped the bottom of her sports bra and tugged it up and over her head. Her fingers then found the hem of her underwear before she pushed them down and off her legs, leaving her standing completely naked before him, shivering slightly in the coolness of the room. He could see the splotches on her skin where bruises were starting to form.

He forced himself to look just at her face.

“Good girl,” he said, gesturing to her body. He patted his lap. “Now come get in position.”

There was another slight pause, but not one long enough where he had to reprimand her, before she moved over to him, standing directly next to his right leg, her front just touching the side of his leg. 

And then she bent over, wiggling a little to get into position, until her upper half was hanging over his legs and her ass was directly in the center of his lap.

He lifted his hand and placed it square on her ass, rubbing it around over both her cheeks and then dipping his finger between them and sliding down her crevice before putting his hand back fully on her ass and squeezing her just so.

“I think twenty is good, don’t you?” he said, but this time his voice was kind, and he let his other hand tangle in her curls that were loose around her upside-down head.

“Yes, Sir,” she murmured.

He readied his hand, positioning it just a few inches from her bare ass.

“Count for me, Natasha,” he commanded.

“Yes, Sir.”

He spanked her on her right cheek. Not hard, but not as lightly as when they were playing. She didn’t flinch.

“One,” she said.

He spanked her next on her left cheek, the same pressure as the first.

“Two,” she said.

He kept alternating, right and then left, the pressure getting harder with each smack. She kept counting, her voice clear and distinct with no trace of pain.

“Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.”

He decided to ramp up the pressure even more. He would never hit her with as much force as he was capable with, but he wasn’t even close to that now.

He spanked her again on the right side, the noise of this slap echoing around the room.

Natasha jerked over his lap. He tugged on her hair, a reminder that he was in control.

She took a few seconds.

“Nine,” she said, and there was no difference in the sound of her voice.

He spanked her again on the left side, even harder this time.

She jerked again, and he tugged on her hair again.

“Ten,” she said, and this time he swore he heard her voice tremble.

He paused for a moment, looking down at her ass. It was starting to turn a bright shade of red, getting closer to the color of her hair, but he knew she could take more. Knew she _needed_ to take more.

He held his hand further away this time, to increase the velocity before he reached her skin.

He spanked her on the right.

“Eleven.” There was definitely a tremble in her voice.

He spanked her on the left.

“Twelve.”

On the right.

She whimpered. “Thirteen.”

On the left.

She whimpered again. “Fourteen.”

He took a breath and spanked her again, even harder still, causing her body to jerk forward. A harsh gasp of air left her mouth.

“Fif …,” she practically moaned, and then something odd happened. “Teen,” she finished, her voice breaking. He looked down, realizing her shoulders were starting to shake.

He gave her a few seconds to let her compose herself before tugging on her hair and spanking her hard again, this time on the left.

“Sixteen,” she choked out, and he whacked her again.

“Seventeen.” He could see drops of liquid hitting the wood floor beneath her head. Her whole upper body was shaking.

He spanked her again.

“Eighteen.” She was openly sobbing now, her body shaking uncontrollably in his lap. 

This was the part he hated, but he had promised her twenty, and he couldn’t stop. It would make her feel worse later. They had tried that once, and it had been bad.

He took a deep breath and spanked her for the last time on the right side, with the most force he had used yet.

Her body shook and her ass glowed a deep aching red, and it took her awhile to get out the word.

“N-n-nineteen.”

One left. He rubbed the left cheek of her ass with his palm, causing her to whimper, and then he struck her one last time, the hardest one of all.

She sobbed, and he didn’t have the heart to order her to comply. Instead the fingers that were tangled in her hair moved to rest on top of her head and he began to stroke her gently, soothing her as much as he could. His other hand moved to her back, rubbing her gently.

“That’s it,” he said softly. “That’s it. You did it. You’re such a good girl.”

She kept crying, and he moved his hand that was rubbing her back down toward her ass, bypassing the abused skin and instead finding the softness of her pussy. He began to rub her gently, with first one finger and then a second, feeling her warmth beneath his flesh.

She was already wet, had been by the time he’d touched her, and was growing wetter as he rubbed her, so he whispered to her again — “It’s okay. You’re okay” — and then he slid a finger inside her, moving it gently as she continued to cry.

This was his favorite part, fucking her gently while she cried, letting her know that no matter what she did, he would always love her and always want her.

It would take a while, but she would eventually come, and then he would finger her more until she came again, and by then she would have finally stopped crying. 

After they were done, he would lift her up and carry her to the bathroom, getting in first and letting her nestle in his arms as he bathed her and fingered her and gave her a third orgasm.

Later, he would let her fall asleep tucked in his arms. The next morning, when she was awake and more like herself, he would tell her he was proud of her and that she was really good for him but that she needed to promise she would never do anything so reckless again.

And she would promise, and for a while she wouldn’t, but there would come a day when she would and she would need Steve again.

And he would be here, because she needed him and he loved her, and that is what they did.


End file.
